


Web of lies

by leoraine



Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst, Character Study, F/M, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-22
Updated: 2011-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-15 21:10:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/164967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leoraine/pseuds/leoraine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing scene for Grace Period. What was running through Tony's head when Paula died. Written for NCIS LFWS Session 5 Round 2. Prompt was - write a character study.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Web of lies

**Author's Note:**

> Beta-reader: Tania (pennythepants)  
> Spoilers: 4.19 Grace Period

Paula's dead. I'm standing in the hall, leaning against the door, waiting. Gibbs sent me home, sent us all home for the day. I don't know how I ended up here. I barely had enough presence of mind to change my clothes; the smell coming from them would be really hard to explain. Now I'm here, knocking on the door, hoping she's home. My ears are still ringing from the explosion when Jeanne opens the door and lets me in. I can barely hear her; instead I watch her lips move and respond the way that is expected of me. She smiles at me and I pull her close. Her body is warm and I can feel her heart beating inside her chest. She's alive. Unlike Paula. There's still a chance that I can be with her, that I can handle this and not mess up.

How did I even make it here? Into this woman's life? She's talking about the future - our future together. She loves me and I.... maybe I love her. I don't care who her father is, or what he's doing. With Jeanne, I can be me, without the need to be a perfect agent. It's ridiculous, I know. I lie every time I speak with her, but in a way, the things I say to her are truer than anything I say to my team. I don't have to be a clown for her to like me. I don't have to smile non-stop, to pretend everything is okay. She doesn't think less of me when I crash on her couch, exhausted, and fall asleep. When I'm with her, I climb walls because it's fun, not because there are bad guys I need to catch.

She doesn't head slap me when I get something wrong, and when she does, ah... It’s a totally different touch to Gibbs'. Her jibes and jokes aren't hurtful or inconsiderate; they don't cut as deep as McGee's or Ziva's. Though maybe that's just because they know me well enough to find my weak places. Jeanne isn't looking for weak places, not yet. Maybe it comes when two people move in together? Or does it start when they get married, start a family, have children?

Oh God, so many chances, and so many ways this could end, if I don't mess it up. So many futures, if only I can listen to advice. Sometimes, when I lay in bed with this woman, when I wait for the sun to come up, my alarm to ring, I just watch her sleep. That's new for me too. Usually, I leave my women while they're still asleep, claiming work responsibilities. Though what responsibilities do I have as a Film teacher? No need to rush in before the students, no cases waiting on my desk, lives being at risk. No team that has my six. Just a bunch of imaginary colleagues. Who am I lying to? Paula might've said that I need to take the plunge, but she hadn't known the truth either. Can I do this? Keep on lying until the dam breaks and all the dirt swims out? What then? Will she still whisper in my ear that she loves me, or will she hate me for loving her?

It would be so much better if she knew who I am. If she knew my family, my team. I wouldn't need two cell phones, I wouldn't need the lies, and when I came home after a hard case, I could tell her all about it, or stay silent, and she would understand, she would care. I would introduce her to Abby, to Ducky, to everyone I care about. I'm sure Jeanne would be smitten by Ducky. They could exchange medical stories, maybe even the one about the man who had the plague in the 21st century. Well, maybe not that one. But she would know whose name I sometimes utter in my dreams, that Kate isn't my ex-girlfriend but a partner I once had. I would show her my grumpy boss and she would understand why I pick up the phone each time it rings, why I sometimes leave in the middle of night without an explanation. Ziva would scare the hell out of her, or maybe not. Depends on whether they would exchange funny stories about me, or if Ziva would distrust Jeanne. She is acting a little strange lately, though that may be because I'm lying to her and she knows.

It's funny, how I'm thinking about what Jeanne would think about my team, not the other way around. What would I do if nobody liked her? Would it matter? Would I need to defend her against them? To defend her father?

God, I'm messed up. This can never work. The minute she finds out, she will leave. I will lose her, just like I lost every other woman in my life. They either left or died, and I couldn't stop them. All that's left behind are memories. I grit my teeth and try to hide my trembling. I close my eyes, but then snap them open. All I can see behind my lids is Paula's burned body, the red dot marring Kate's surprised face, my mother in the casket when I was eight, looking asleep, peaceful.

I can't stop the shiver and Jeanne looks at me with concern. When she asks what's wrong, I say nothing, just smile and touch her face.

I can't get the smell of burned skin out of my nose. Leaning into the hug, I push my face into Jeanne's hair, taking in the smell of shampoo and her. When I close my eyes, my nose pressed into her silky hair, my breath brushing her ear, in this simple moment all I can see is Jeanne.

I open my eyes and kiss her, wanting to erase those other images, or push them back, deep inside my brain. If we can only stay like this forever, they will never come back. If the dam of lies holds, there's still time.


End file.
